


I See

by Seralyn



Category: Bridgerton Series - Julia Quinn
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-10
Updated: 2021-02-10
Packaged: 2021-03-16 00:07:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29322909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seralyn/pseuds/Seralyn
Summary: Violet Bridgerton paces. Her feet started to wear  into the ancient carpet that lined the hallway of Aubrey Hall. Her eyes on the ornate door, behind which, was her eldest child. Her firstborn child, the one that was currently tugging at her heart and making her feel as though her chest were caving in. His face, his haunted defeated face, that greeted her in the aftermath of the bee sting was the only thing she could see.The aftermath of the bee incident at Aubrey Hall. Spoilers for "The Viscount Who Loved Me"
Comments: 3
Kudos: 28





	I See

Violet Bridgerton paces. Her feet started to wear into the ancient carpet that lined the hallway of Aubrey Hall. Her eyes on the ornate door, behind which, was her eldest child. Her firstborn child, the one that was currently tugging at her heart and making her feel as though her chest were caving in. His face, his haunted defeated face, that greeted her in the aftermath of the bee sting was the only thing she could see.  
I see. Was all she could manage to say. And she could see. The fear in his eyes. Had he always been frightened by the damned wing beasts? She was trying to remember now instances where their paths crossed the bloody wee bastards and could conjure nothing of the sort. And here she stood feeling all sorts of not ready to confront him. She had to speak to him.   
The door to his room was partly open. A warm candle light flickering in the slither. She amended herself to seeing if he was even in a state to be called upon. He was sitting at his desk. Edmund’s pocket watch in his hand and he was watching it. He startled when she pushed the door open and it groaned out a squeak.  
“Ma-,” he coughed. Had the endearment mama been on his lips? She had been “mother” since he deemed himself a man when he went off to Eton. In his face now she could see the vestiges fading away to reveal the proud and excited boy he had been. Bouncing with excitement he parted from Aubrey Hall, promising each of his siblings, save for Benedict who was petulant and swearing he wouldn’t miss Anthony, that he’d write to them every week. He straightened hiding away his pocket watch behind the stack of correspondences, “Mother. I did not hear you knock,”  
She frowned, realizing then, that she had forgotten all about proprietary. She was his mother, she told herself, and a mother had a right to barge in upon a child who needed help. She crossed the threshold to the desk. His eyes were red and they tracked each of her steps though there was a delay to his movements and she was able to pluck his beloved trinket from the desk. Her fingers running over the engraved B on the back. Its groves faded with time and usage. Anthony’s lower lip fell with an audible popping noise. His hand twitched but remained upon his thigh.  
“I did not know that you feared them,” It was not the most gentle way to ease into a conversation neither of them wanted to have. His shoulders immediately tensed and the lie fell instanously from his lips. She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow. He looked away in defeat, “You and your brothers have never been able to lie to me,” Feeling a bit guilty, she gently laid the watch back onto the desk, hoping it to be a peace offering of sorts, “I wish you did not feel you had to lie everyone is afra-  
“Don’t,” he spat out.  
“Alright,” He was refusing to meet her eyes now. Feebly he was trying to hide the tears but she could hear his attempts to smother the sounds produced by crying. She was a woman of an advancing age, she had regrets. Ones that caused her little irritation and ones that kept her up at night, longing for Edmund. Her hands brushing over his pillow that had long ago lost his scent.  
One that kept her up at night was trying to recall those days following the blackest of her days. Edmund was dead and she was despondent. Those days were blurred together in grief and darkness and when she emerged Anthony had claimed his inheritance and was sat at the head of the table. She had given him space, wanting to allow him time to learn his new responsibilities, but had she distanced herself too much?  
“Anthony,” his head was still bowed, his long fingers playing with the watch in a frenzied manner. She desired to rip it from his hands but thought better of sudden movements, “Anthony James Charles Bridgerton look at me,” The command was ignored and she reached a hand out to his chin forcing his head up. He blinked at her surprised by the touch, “I am proud of you,”  
The praise was the breaking point. He tore his face away but not before she saw his lower lip quiver. He stood sending his chair thudding to the ground. He stalked to the window. His posture rimrod straight. When was the last time she had praised him?   
“Proud of me?” he repeated mockingly turning to face her, “you stumbled upon me in the gardens with me sucking the venom from a spot I assure was not her breast but above it! I am being forced into a marriage-  
“Is Miss. Kate Sheffield such a bad choice?”   
“No!” And then his face reddened at the outburst, “but that is not the issue! Are you not embarrassed or ashamed that events that could arise to scurrilous gossip be the reason for a marriage?”   
Violet was shaking her head, “Anthony you thought you were saving her life. I will never be ashamed or upset with you for trying to help someone else,” She wished he’d come closer, “Anthony!” and then she remembered she was his mother and all children sought from their parents a sense of rightness in the world when they felt as if their world was spinning. Surely, Anthony’s world was spinning and tilting and re-arranging itself, “it is going to be alright. You know your father and I were not in love when we married,”   
That was apparently not the right thing to say. For he whirled around then.  
“Thank you mother,” he said, his voice hoarse, “if you do not mind I think I should like to retire for the night,”  
Without waiting for her response he barreled out of the door passing by a bewildered Benedict who paused to allow his elder brother to stomp off in a direction that was assuredly not where his bedchamber was. Benedict’s eyes found hers and she knew they were mirroring the concern and fear in her own. When the stomping had sufficiently faded, Benedict whispered, “he’s not alright,”  
Anthony felt as though his own heart was trying to elope from his chest. The damned thing was pounding so loudly it was mimicking the drums of a orchestra. He was not pleased with his conduct. Fleeing from his mother, but he could not stomach to hear such false platitudes. His body hummed with a sort of negative electricity that was shaking him. It took him a few moments to realize that he had walked and abruptly halted in the spot of the bee incident beside the tullip bushes. His body felt as if it were being untethered from the earth as if it could ignore Newton’s law of gravity. He was not floating at all but falling. He gritted his teeth waiting for impact, but his collison with the grass never came.He forced his eyes open to see the grass beneath him but strong arms were preventing his meeting with it.   
“I’ve got you,” the voice said though it sounded oddly far away. The arms did not relinquish their hold but instead forced him to a standing position, “let us find somewhere private. Come on, Ant,”   
His vision which had become cloudy was astutely clear at the utterance of his boyhood nickname. The only person who had called him that was Benedict who had struggled with the digraph th in his young childhood. Benedict who loathed to be reminded of his own speech delays demanded that no one use the nickname and thus it had been forgotten all together. The brothers, with Benedict mostly leading and Anthony nimbly following, found refuge in the privacy of their gazebo. The one he had requested Kate meet him in, but she, by good fortune was not waiting in the shadows.  
Shamelessly his breathing was labored as if Gregoy had decided to sit upon his chest. Damn those blue eyes that peered upon him with sympathy instead of pity. He was Viscount Bridgerton, man of the house and head of the family and he was not supposed to be running from his mother or fainting in the garden or having to be rescued by lanky younger brothers.   
“Anthony…,” and Benedict paused as if Anthony had opened his mouth to interject, “Anthony, you can confide in me what it is that is troubling you,”  
Through clenched teeth Anthony managed to convey one of his worst lies. That there was nothing at all bothering him. Benedict who had always resembled their father pulled a face that was eerily similar to the one their mother expressed when at her whit’s end with her children’s antics. He even breathed through his nose in her manner and folded his arms across his chest. If he emitted a tsking sound, Anthony thought he would lose what meager control he had over his body.  
“Is it your upcoming marriage?” Benedict prodded, “I suspect there is more to the story than what you and mother and Mrs. Sheffield announced,”  
“I am fine,” Anthony repeated, his voice still unsteady, “I am just a bit lightheaded from the jubilation. I have consumed too much liquor and not enough substance,”  
“Damn your eyes!” Benedict roared now painfully, invoking Edmund whose voice had too been low in tenor, “I am not Gregory or Eloise or Daphne or anyone else you bloody believe you must protect!” He began to pace now striding alongside the bench that Anthony had been sat upon, “I am only two years your junior might I remind you and you can confide in me. Is it Kate? She seems a lovely spirited-  
“It’s not Kate!” Though Benedict did not hear the exclamation.   
“And to be honest we all thought you two were so obtuse for not realizing that you two were becoming fond of each other! Eloise even won the bet!”  
“Excuse me?”   
Benedict was scratching at his ear. His guilty tell-tale sign. Sheepishly he admitted to the bet that they all and much to his outrage, included Edwina too, about when he and Kate would become aware of their supposed feelings for one another.  
“Anthony-  
“It’s because of a damn bee,” Anthony cried unable to stop himself, “mother and Mrs. Sheffield and the gossip Lady Featherington came across me trying to excess venom from a rather precarious spot,” He could feel heat in his neck and his cheeks.   
Benedict for his part was trying to stifle his laughter. No doubt imaging the horrid scene that had befallen his brother. For his efforts, Benedict’s pale skin was turning a shade of red. If he was not still so dizzy, Anthony would have arisen from his seat and punched him or maybe tackled him to the ground in the manner of how they settled their disputes as boys. But as the laughter presided he found his anger fading and cautiously he joined in on the laughter. Of all the ways he thought he was to become engaged this had never crossed his mind.   
And it had provided for him an excuse not to discuss what had been truly ebbing in his soul. That his time upon earth was limited and that he was going to leave Kate alone in this world one day.


End file.
